A Place Where I Belong
by DarkRoseAngelScarlet
Summary: Rated for language later. Faye Valentine loves Spike Spiegel but believes that he doesn't love her... so she runs away. Will he follow his heart, or his guilt? F/S and F/G. Sequal to From the Eyes of A Shrew though u dun hafta read it to get this [Chap 4]
1. Dear Spike, Love Faye

**_Authoress: Michelle C._**

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**_Date: March 30, 2003_**

**_Revised on June 2, 2003 at like 1:30 in the morning…_**

**_Re-revised on June 20, 2003 and June 24, 2003_**

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**_Series: Cowboy Bebop_**

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**_Disclaimers: Do you think I own CB?_**

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**_Old Note: This is a totally 'spur of the moment' type fic._**

**_Note: Okay. Here's the deal with this fic: It's not a one-shot anymore. It's the sequel to From The Eyes Of A Shrew, okay? Okay. Oh, btw, and update on me if anyone cares: I've been feeling a lot better than I was before, okay? I'm not as depressed as before (though I still have my moments) and I've been laughing a lot more in the last week than I have for the past year… That's good, right?… Then why do I feel like a burden's been lifted from my heart and placed on my head?……_**

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**_A Place Where I Belong_**

**_Chapter 1_**

**_Dear Spike, Love Faye_**

            As I sat down, I pulled an old pen that I had found somewhere and pulled a sheet of paper off the top of my dresser. I sighed as a silent tear rolled down my face. I started to write.

_Dear Spike,_

            Heh… Bet you never would have guessed that I'd be writing you a letter, ne? Well, I am. Deal with it. I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving. I know that I've said that I was going to leave in the past and then came back, but this time, it's different. Check the safe—all the money's there. I didn't bust anything this time either. Run a maintenance check if you want. I didn't drain all of the frost out of the air-conditioning system, I didn't steal anything to pawn off, I didn't take any money; the only things that I'm taking are my clothes, my make up, and my ship. Don't look for me. But, of course, I guess you already knew I was going to say that. Either way, you wouldn't care… But I mean it this time.

            Well. So far this is pretty pointless, ne? I guess… Oy… I guess I'm stalling, aren't I? I'm stalling to say something to you because I never wanted you to know… I… I love you, you stupid lunk-head… I don't know why I do… but I do. I love you and now you know. And because I'd have left by the time you read this, you'll never get the chance to laugh in my face and crush my heart. Again.

            Spike… the reason I'm leaving is so you can be happy. I know I've been nothing but a pain in the past, and I'm sorry. I insulted you because I knew that you would never love me. I yelled when I was really crying inside. I hurt you before you could hurt me. Ironic… It's just as Gren said to me… "You hurt them before they ever get a chance to hurt you…"

            I'm so sorry for everything that I've ever said and done to you. I know that you won't forgive me, but at least now I know that you know I love you… We'll never meet again; I can make you that last promise… but please don't forget me; it's better to be remembered in hate than to be completely forgotten…

            Say goodbye to Jet, Edward, and the mutt for me. And tell them I loved them too. You guys were the only family I ever really knew…

Sayonara, Space Cowboy. May you finally find peace without me.

Love,

Faye

            I folded up the letter and put it in an envelope. I sealed it with my tears and dried my eyes before I snuck out of my room, heading towards Spike's, trying as hard I could not to wake Ein. 'Stupid mutt,' I thought half-heartedly. It's a good thing that Spike and Jet had decided to take the night off. I couldn't believe that they actually wanted Ed to go with them. But, of course, they didn't invite me. They always either forgot about me or snubbed me on purpose.

            I walked into his room for the first and last time. As I leaned down to place the vanilla-colored envelope on his pillow, a place where he was sure to see it, I saw a picture frame. Carefully, I sat down on the hurriedly made bed and took the picture frame delicately in my hands. The picture in the frame almost made me drop the delicate gold casing. My head still pounded as I remembered my dream… It was her; Julia.

            A droplet of water landed on the impassive face and, shocked, I realized that I was crying. Again.

Sniffling, I put the picture back on his dresser. 'So he still hasn't forgotten…' I thought. 'No. Of course not. How could he ever forget his beautiful angel?' I thought bitterly.

            I let loose a soft laugh of resentment and yet full of pain and uncertainty. 'Goodbye, Spike,' I thought sadly. I got up off his now-wrinkled sheets and turned around to straighten them. I unthinkingly started to smooth out the creases and saw a small dark spot appear. More tears.

            I straightened up and walked purposely towards the door with two small bags hanging from my limp arms. I walked slowly into the hangar of the Bebop and loaded my two undersized bags of belongings; it was only my clothes and a small amount of make up. I threw them into the seat of the Redtail spiritlessly and started it up.

            In an almost robotic way, I pulled out of the hangar and flew towards the only other 'home' I knew: Earth.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

            I set the coordinates towards Earth, my home planet before I became a wanderer.

            "Coordinates: Old North America. Southern Canada. Town: Ancient Victoria of the British Columbia province. Destination confirmed. Time until destination reached: approximately one day, five hours, and forty minutes," droned the computer. "Auto-pilot engaged."

            I put my head back and closed my eyes, letting my ship take me away from the old clunker before I could take another look at my "home" for the past 2 years and change my mind. When about five minutes passed, I reopened my eyes and let out a sigh. 'So this is it,' I thought. 'I'm finally alone. I'm… free. No more being compared to the perfect Julia; no more of Spike's constant insults. No more Spike…'

            Finally, after another few minutes of silence and boredom, I slipped into a deep sleep. I dreamed…

            Blurry images of Gren entered my mind. I had loved him in a way that I'd loved no other. We were both "freaks" in our own ways, his more noticeable than others. 'Gren…' I thought wistfully remembering. Our life spans were what really had me so curious. His, so short, yet sweet. Mine? Heh. I'd lived longer than I should have. My life was Hell.

            Sure, Gren was betrayed, and that must have been horrible, but he changed from that. Me, I just accepted it and put it in the past. I learned, but I never used my "lessons" to help others or even help myself. I was just being, not living, not dead. But I was dying. We were both dying in our own separate ways.

            I loved Gren as a brother, and yet he was my soul mate because he understood what I felt; he understood me, which is more than what I could have said about anybody else I knew. Not even my old friends.

            No one understood me. Ever. Until Gren. He understood because he had it even worse than I did. To know when you would die must have been Hell for him, especially because he knew it was so soon…

            I loved Gren… I really did… 'Gren. Gren. Gren. Gren. Gren,' I thought fiercely in my dream. I didn't allow myself to think of Spike at all, so my dreams for that one day, five hours, and forty minutes were all about Gren and some other memories that I was trying to sift through.

            So, no wonder, when the computer warned me that I had another 5 hours before reaching Earth, I was still fast asleep.

There were a lot of memories, though none of them really helped me. All they did was bring up old fears, crush some of my dreams, and bring me to a shattering reality—even though I was still dreaming. So what if I remembered? Did it matter? Everything that mattered was 50 years in the past or died with Gren. 'Or was left with Spike,' part of my mind said, but I pushed it away. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

All that I wanted to do was sleep. Sleep forever and ever. But that was impossible, because, of course, by the time I actually stopped dreaming and my body was actually getting some rest, Planet Earth was only five minutes away.


	2. Women

**_Authoress: Michelle C._**

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**_Date: June 24, 2003_**

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**_Series: Cowboy Bebop_**

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**_Disclaimers: If you really want disclaimers, why don't you just read my other fics? They all have them -.-;_**

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**_Note: Sorry it took so long to update. It's been summer and this is only my 4th writing piece. Sad… Also, I have no idea how much a woolong is (if that's even how you spell it) but I mean to write it so that 1 million is very little and 20 billion to be a whole lot (if it really isn't)._**

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A Place Where I Belong Chapter 2 Women 

            "Faye-Faye!" shouted Ed as she bounced into the Bebop, face in a full grin. "Faye-Faye, Faye-Faye! Where is Faye-Faye? Did Ein see Faye-Faye somewheres?" She held her arms out like the wings of an airplane and swooped at the young Corgi who was lying "somewheres" in the kitchen. "Is Faye-Faye somewheres? Faye-Faye!" she called when she reached Ein. "Faye-Faye no here, ooh-la-la," she said as she grabbed the whimpering dog and swung him around a few times.

"Hey, Faye! Come here!" Jet said as he and Spike stepped out of the darkness of the falling night into the slightly, better lit "living room" of the Bebop. "Where is that woman?" he asked to no one in particular as he walked into the ship's small kitchen to turn on the light. He dropped the groceries on the counter and started on their dinner.

            Spike just smiled and sat down on the old, ugly, and disgustingly yellow couch. It was a good night out and he had enjoyed himself, watching Ed and Jet's antics, but still felt if as he missed something. The moment he reached the Bebop, he realized what it was and he smirked upon entering, almost disbelievingly, but in a soft, wistful way.

He whacked his shoe against the computer that doubled as a television. At first, all that it had on the transparent screen was static; another kick to the side soon fixed it.

Big Shot was on and Spike, who was still slightly daydreaming, vaguely noticed what was on when suddenly something caught his eye. '_Was that—_" he thought before giving one hundred and twenty percent of his attention to the bounty hunting show. He strained to pay attention to any details that would have confirmed what he had thought he saw and heard on a show a few seconds ago.

"Yes, it's true, amigos and amigas. Earlier today, an attempted murder was reported by a young man at a bar," said the cowboy as his annoyingly blonde assistant feigned a gasp and threw her hands to her face in an overdramatic way. "It is reported that this young woman—yes, young woman—is armed and dangerous. We have no current picture of this gal, but the young man who offered a small sum of one million reward for her safe capture gave us some information."

"Yes," said the blonde in her high-pitched voice. "Now, let's see…" she paused and read something from a piece of paper. "Ah, yes. The man said that the lady had a dark violet-colored hair, was wearing a bright matching yellow tank top and shorts, and had a slightly darker yellow headband. She is said to be around 5'5" and looked around the age of 26. She also had on yellow boots. Oh," the blonde continued shrilling, "and the suspect is also suppose to have dark green eyes and very pale skin. That's all the information that was given to us." She laughed and called the camera's attention back to the man.

"Yes. She was last spotted at the Ruby Rose's grand reopening. That was the place that was closed down because of a past shootout, you know. The young man said he offered to buy her a drink and she refused with tears and a gun! Now, that's one unstable chica. So now this mysterious, purple-haired broad has a one-mill reward on her pretty head. Small, yes, but if you're up for a challenge, go for it! And don't forget that she's easily provoked, so proceed with caution, cowboys and cowgirls out there," said the old man. "Now for our _real_ bounties," he said, stressing the 'real,' making sure that everybody who was watching knew he thought one million was beggars' money. "There's a ten billion reward out on the head of a master lady assassin, Jade Wong, who also goes by the name Sierra Jade. This feisty lady was convicted of murdering ten people already in the past week and since she's ended up slaughtering five more, it's double time! That's right, cowboys and girls out there—her bounty is now twenty bill—"

Spike kicked the television again, this time shutting it off. "Jet!" he called loudly over his shoulder.

"What?" asked Jet as he came in from the kitchen still in his apron. "Any good bounties?" he asked, not really caring at the moment. The night before was just too relaxing to let something as little as not finding a bounty on their first day back spoil his good mood.

"I'm not sure, Jet," said Spike thoughtfully. '_The description sounded like her enough, but isn't she—_" Spike thought before saying aloud, "Jet, where's Faye?"

"Faye? I dunno. I assumed she was in her room, though she hasn't made a sound since we came back. I'll ask Ed if she's seen her."

Jet walked away and Spike slumped down a bit before rising to his feet. His long strides soon took him to Faye's room. He knocked softly before opening the door. If she was in there, she would have said, "Go away," or something to that extent. But she wasn't there.

Spike slowly walked back across the threshold of Faye's room and shut the door behind him, his expression thoughtful. He trudged to his room, but before he opened the door, he felt a sudden chill as if something was wrong. He pulled his gun out of its holster and put has back against the wall before slowly opening the door.

As Spike looked around, he didn't see any movement and everything looked the same as it did when he, Jet, and Ed left the Bebop last night.

Except his bed.

Spike never made his bed; he rarely even threw the covers over the mess, so the smooth, nearly creaseless blanket on his bed convinced him that someone had been there. But who?

Curious, he slowly walked toward it, purposely allowing his footsteps to thump loudly as he walked, so as to alert anybody of his arrival—that is, if there was, in fact, anyone there anymore. As he got closer, he saw that a small, vanilla-colored envelope sat on his pillow, with his name printed neatly in the front. By then, he was sure that no one had trespassed and stayed long in his domain.

            Slowly, he sat down on his neatly made bed and seized the small, square paper quickly, as if it could have moved out of his reach if he was too slow. He stared at the nice, even letters of his name. Right away, he could tell that… Faye had been crying as she wrote the letter because the dot on the 'i' in his name was slightly smudged—or had the small stain merely have been water?

            Interested and baffled at the same time, Spike opened the unsealed envelope and took out the sheet of paper what was written in Faye's neat, even cursive.

_Dear Spike,_

            Heh… Bet you never would have guessed that I'd be writing you a letter, ne? Well, I am. Deal with it. I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving. I know that I've said that I was going to leave in the past and then came back, but this time, it's different. Check the safe—all the money's there. I didn't bust anything this time either. Run a maintenance check if you want. I didn't drain all of the frost out of the air-conditioning system, I didn't steal anything to pawn off, I didn't take any money; the only things that I'm taking are my clothes, my make up, and my ship. Don't look for me. But, of course, I guess you already knew I was going to say that. Either way, you wouldn't care… But I mean it this time.

            Well. So far this is pretty pointless, ne? I guess… Oy… I guess I'm stalling, aren't I? I'm stalling to say something to you because I never wanted you to know… I… I love you, you stupid lunk-head… I don't know why I do… but I do. I love you and now you know. And because I'd have left by the time you read this, you'll never get the chance to laugh in my face and crush my heart. Again.

            Spike… the reason I'm leaving is so you can be happy. I know I've been nothing but a pain in the past, and I'm sorry. I insulted you because I knew that you would never love me. I yelled when I was really crying inside. I hurt you before you could hurt me. Ironic… It's just as Gren said to me… "You hurt them before they ever get a chance to hurt you…"

            I'm so sorry for everything that I've ever said and done to you. I know that you won't forgive me, but at least now I know that you know I love you… We'll never meet again; I can make you that last promise… but please don't forget me; it's better to be remembered in hate than to be completely forgotten…

            Say goodbye to Jet, Edward, and the mutt for me. And tell them I loved them too. You guys were the only family I ever really knew…

Sayonara, Space Cowboy. May you finally find peace without me.

Love,

Faye

            Love, Faye. That was the last line of the letter. It had a conclusive feeling to it, a certain finality. "Don't look for me. But, of course, I guess you already knew I was going to say that. Either way, you wouldn't care… But I mean it this time." That line really irked Spike. " 'Don't look for me. But, of course, I guess you already knew I was going to say that. Either way, you wouldn't care…' Shit, what the hell did she mean by 'Either way, you wouldn't care'?" Spike muttered loudly under his breath as he bit back the bile he felt in the back of his throat.

            Slowly, he found his hand massaging his forehead. 'That woman… She always gives me such a migraine… Even when she's—' he thought before he stopped himself. 'No. She can't be gone. She'll be back. She always comes back. She can't live out there without us. This… This letter must have been written to throw me off-track. Well, no way, Faye-Faye,' Spike thought, even though he was uneasy. I had a feeling, a strong one, that she meant what she said. 'You always get in so much trouble… You know you can't live without us…' he thought. 'And I know I can't live without you…'

            Spike groaned as he got up off of his bed. 'Damn… I just wrinkled the sheets,' he thought. Suddenly, he laughed. When did he ever care if he wrinkled his bed sheets? But then again, when did Faye ever make his bed for him? A first… a last?

            'Damn,' thought again. 'Women…'


	3. Salty And Nostalgic Remembrances

**_Authoress: Michelle C._**

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**_Date: July 13, 2003_**

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**_Series: Cowboy Bebop_**

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**_Disclaimers: See other fics._**

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**_A Place Where I Belong_**

**_Chapter 3_**

**_Salty and Nostalgic Remembrances_**

            '_Finally,_' I thought as I landed on Earth. '_And that was the easy part… though it was definitely not easy._' I hated leaving Spike. I woke up when the Redtail's computer voiced that there were only five minutes left before I landed on Earth. I was glad to finally be able to stretch out after a day and about six hours crammed into the small starship; it was built for short-distanced trips, not journeys that lasted more than a couple of hours.

I realized that I had cried in my sleep when I woke up because my face felt crackly and dry from the tears so before I landed at my port, I made up my face a little bit so I could at least _look_ presentable even though I felt like shit.

            What I saw when I stepped out of my ship almost made me want to go right back on it and leave Earth forever. It was only a year since we had last visited that old dust ball of a planet but since then, the buildings had grown even shabbier and seemingly darker… maybe even quieter. It was like a ghost town, almost, except for a few of the clubs with their bright neon lights that hurt my still-sleepy eyes.

            I was so sick of sitting, but I needed something in my system. Some strong liquor would do the trick, so I headed to a bar that was nearby. '_The Ruby Rose,_' I thought. '_Well, I like the name,_' I thought, '_and it looks calm enough…_' I didn't feel like fighting off guys then. I was too tired and I had barely slept in the last week anyways, so it was pretty easy to piss me off.

            As soon as I entered the bar, I caught a strong whiff of roses. They were my favorite flowers when I was a kid and I still loved their smell. I remembered that my old friends use to call me the "Rose Queen" because I wouldn't go anywhere without some of my papa's special roses. They were thornless and specially imported, I believe, from what used to be China. Some were a beautiful blood red while others were a yellow that was so bright, it put the sun to shame. Papa had bred the two plants together and created a pale orange colored rose, though how it was so pale was completely beyond me.

            Papa was an expert gardener and horse breeder while Mama was great at sewing and stitching. Mama use to love sewing tiny roses all over my little hats because she knew I loved them so much…

            A nostalgic feeling made itself known in my heart because of the flowers' heady scent and I almost collapsed, if not for the barstool conveniently under me. I hadn't realized that I had made it to the bartender's station already. "So what'll you have, little missy?" he asked me. I didn't really feel like giving the guy the satisfaction of knowing "little missy" bothered me, so I just ordered a glass of Bloody Mary* and sipped it slowly, savoring the liquor as the pungent taste washed down my throat. [*I have no idea how strong a BM is exactly. I asked my mom and she said it's tomato juice with vodka… Well, I'm still clueless.] 

            I zoned out a bit, I suppose, because the next thing I knew, a guy with longish hair who was definitely not there before was sitting next to me and was trying to ask me something. I turned to look him square in the face but as I did, I suddenly gasped. It was Gren; only he had blackish-blue hair instead of the beautiful violet-black it was before.

            "Miss," he said again, "Miss. What is your name?"

            "I-I'm Faye. Faye Valentine."

            "What a beautiful name. Faye," he said as he turned towards me. The way he said my name brought shivers so my back. Suddenly, I felt very exposed in the yellow shorts and suspenders I was in. His blue-green eyes—the same eyes as Gren's—bore into my emerald green eyes. I actually thought it was Gren for a few seconds and then I remembered: Gren died that day. Spike had helped him into his ship and dragged it in the direction of Titan before we took off. It hurt so much that day…

            "My name is Hikari. Gren Hikari. Can I get you another Bloody Mary, Faye?"

            As he said those words, I felt an ocean of tears that I had tried to hold back with a piece of driftwood rush into my eyes. "G-Gren?" I stuttered out.

            "Yes. That is my name," he said smiling. He had the same smile too.

            That was it. I couldn't hold it back anymore. I suddenly spun around the pulled out my Glock30 and shoved it in his face. "You," I said, my voice shaking as I leaned over him, "are _not_ Gren!" A single tear landed on his face before I turned toward the door and fired one shot at the ceiling, letting the bullet swirl through the rosy-colored smoke that smelled of roses and cigarettes in the bar.

            I felt sick. So I did the only logical thing at the time: I ran. I have no idea how long it was that I ran before reaching a small building. I don't know what it was that drew me towards it, but I stopped in front of it and gradually, my breath slowed enough so I didn't need to lean over on my knees in order to catch it anymore.

            The first thing I thought as I straightened up was, '_Damn! The Redtail!_' I had completely forgotten it when I ran out of the Ruby Rose. It was still parked there. '_Well,_' I thought, highly irritated, '_I guess I have to go get it in the morning…_'

            I sighed and started to walk down the road when I suddenly remembered the small building that I had stopped in front of. What was it about that little place?

            Then, as if someone had suddenly patted me on the shoulder unsuspectingly, I started; there was music coming from the inside of the house.

            Cautiously, I approached the house. Almost as suddenly as it made itself known to me, the music stopped. As if coming out of a trance, I blinked. Whoever was playing the piano had picked a very haunting piece. An old Earth piece called "Toccata in D Minor" by Johann Sebastian Bach. 

            I almost cried again as I remembered the piano Mama had played. She used to spend hours every day practicing and playing and singing. I used to sit next to her and was amazed when she played. When I had touched the piano, my childlike fingers were sloppy and immature.

            I didn't understand how when I played the instrument made such terrible, ugly sounds and how when Mama played, I could listen to the music and feel sleepy and wide awake at the same time.

            When I was a little older, I begged Mama to teach me how to play and after a few days of asking, Mama finally agreed.

            At first, my fingers tried to play the beautiful, complicated pieces Mama played and though I tried and tried and tried, I couldn't play them!

            Then, Mama took me away from the giant, black, wooden Grand Piano and sat me down on the giant, white, plushy couch.

            I hated that couch.

            Mama and Papa only sat me on that couch when it was something they really wanted me to listen to; I couldn't get out of that lump by myself until I was about eleven years old. It ate me alive! Or… at least, that's what it had felt like when I was little.

            "Now, Faye, honey," she said in her soft voice. "Do you _really_ want to learn to play the piano? Do you really want to play it _well_?" she asked me gently, giving me a chance to change my decision from before.

            I answered with an eager "yes" and she laughed her beautiful, lyrical laugh but then suddenly stopped. "I'm serious, honey. I'll teach you as much as I know but you must promise to be dedicated and practice every day. Do you promise?"

            I nodded, happy that she agreed.

            So my piano lessens began. At first, since I was just starting and I was already 8 years old, Mama gave me some easy and fun pieces like Happy Farmer by Robert Schumann or Skip and March by Diana Fabiani.

            I had such a great time. I practiced and hour a day, just like a good little girl was suppose to. Just like Mama said.

            After five years, Mama thought I was ready for a harder piece and gave me one for my thirteenth birthday. It was a faint, haunting piece by one of my favorite songwriters. His songs were an Earth tradition; almost all accomplished pianists played at least one symphony or one concerto written by Ludwig van Beethoven. He was one of the best and it was a blast from the far past.

            Right away I wanted to try out my new piece but Mama only laughed and told me to finish my cake and ice cream. I was so excited. My thirteenth birthday was one of my most memorable… and one of the last ones with my mom, though I didn't know it at the time.

            After my little party, my friends' parents picked their own child up and all was quiet. While the maids cleaned up our carefully made messes (us kids and "the girls" as we called our maids, were friends, so we tried to make as little messes as possible for them to clean) Mama and I walked quickly into the piano room and set up the piece. The song, "Sonata Quasi Una Fantasia" (otherwise known as the Moonlight Sonata)'s first movement, which is what I had received, was spread across four sheets of light pink, canvas-like paper. The notes upon it were golden and looked like they were pressed into the paper, rather than printed. The four thick sheets, along with the rest were bound together by a beautiful red ribbon and on the cover, it said "To Faye, Love Mama, Papa, Andy, and Beth" in beautiful silver lettering.

            I just couldn't wait to get started.

            As I started to play, the music overtook all my senses and by the time I was done with the first movement, I was breathless. It felt like I had played that piece a million times before already. I was so happy with it and I could tell with the look on my mom's face that she was pleased as well.

            "Oh, Faye," she said, "I don't think that I've ever seen someone play the Moonlight Sonata's first movement so beautifully before, especially on the first try!"

            I blushed because I had thought it was such a hard piece and I didn't think I did too well, but was incredibly happy that Mama thought I was so good. It was so much harder than Für Elise and more beautiful in some parts.

            I started again as I found myself right in front of the door of the little building. The more I studied it, the more fascinated I was. The music had stopped, but I was more intrigued than ever. Hardly anybody played the piano anymore. Most people only played instruments at all because they had found their natural gift and decided to make some money off of it… besides Gren, of course.

            I, myself, had never even thought of playing the piano for anybody other than myself before; then again, I never knew I knew how to play. '_I wonder… I wonder if I _can_ still play,_' I thought wistfully.

            Quietly, I knocked on the door. Or, rather, what looked like a door. The moment I touched it, my hand went right through. It was a hologram. Curious, I stepped through the "door" and into the building.


	4. Fight

Authoress: Michelle C.  
  
Date: July 31, 2003  
  
Series: Cowboy Bebop  
  
Disclaimers: See other fics.  
  
Note: This is one of my "short but sweet" chapters. It's not too depressing and I think it's kinda cute. Enjoy ^ ^ (omg I put a smile thingy! Yay! I haven't done that in a fic for a while now lolz. Oooh and an 'lolz' too ^ ^ I'm happy again *smiles slightly*)  
  
A Place Where I Belong  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Fight  
  
Ein yawned and stood up. He walked over to Ed with his puppyish gait and stared at the girl. "Hey there, Ein," she said as she logged off the 'Net. "What's up?"  
She hadn't been her usual, hyper self since Faye left-and that was a whole month and a half ago. Of course, Ed's normal, sunshine-y nature didn't disappear completely; she still trusted that Faye would come back, Spike would be happy again, they would end up catching another bounty head together and split the reward money. Faye would then blow her share at the tracks or a casino, Jet would spend most of his on the Bebop along with some bell peppers and beef and, as usual-minus the beef, and Spike would most likely get himself wasted at the next local bar they reach.  
But, of course, that was just a 13-year-old girl's wishful thinking.  
She had been talking to Ein more and more. Before, she used to talk to him out of habit, or just for fun when she was bored, occasionally when he was barking crazily. But in the past half of a month, she started to actually search for the Corgi when he was sleeping and just sat down and talk to him, all serious-like. She would just sit on the ground, on the couch, her bed, wherever she was to talk to her little companion and rouse him from his slumber. One time she talked to him about her computer. Another time, the subject was Jet's bonsai plants. Then, a few days later, Ed brought up Faye and Ein's ears perked up a little bit. That small action alone encouraged the girl to talk more about Faye and her disappearance but when she said that she felt Faye had betrayed her in a way, Ein lifted himself from his resting spot and plopped himself in the lap of the redhead. He sat for a few seconds, looking into her eyes, and licked her face. Then he circled once and fell into his puppy slumber. Ed took it as his doggy way of saying, "She didn't betray you; she'll be back. And if she did betray you, then she betrayed the rest of us-including Spike." Ed knew that Faye loved Spike. It wasn't an, "I love you so I'll throw myself at you," an, "I'll flirt with you even though it's screaming 'school girl'," or even, "Since Julia's dead and you're depressed, I'll comfort you," kind of love. It was more like a teenage girl seeing a movie star on television and having a crush. The teenage girl knows that it's futile and a waste of time to like him but it doesn't matter. She feels it and that's all that does matter. So she goes on every day as if she doesn't love him, as if everything around her is normal. But when she's by herself, she checks all the windows and doors to make sure nobody's there and finally breaks down and cries. She cries because he'll never feel the same about her as she does him; she cries because he'll never know she exists. So then even if she sees him in real life, eventually, she won't try to do anything to get attention; she'd just be another crazed fan anyways, so she just stays among the shadows and watches and thinks of what it would be like if they were together. Faye loved Spike in that dark little corner.  
Ed knew it. She could see it in Faye's eyes. Whenever the subject of Spike's past, Julia, anything like that came up, Faye would get this distant look in her eyes even though her face was that neutral mask that reeked of I-don't-give-a-damn-even-though-it's-important-and-I-know-it's- important-and-I-know-you-know-I-know-it's-important.  
No matter how much Faye would have denied it, she did love Spike; it was obvious and obviously painful. Jet knew it, Ed new it-Hell, even the dog knew it! Spike was the only one who never noticed. But then his feelings changed towards her and it turned into love too.  
The only problem was that they finally knew their own feelings but never knew each other's.  
Edward sighed and pet the drowsing pup in her lap.  
  
^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
The next morning, I doubt even the dog remembered the sudden quietness in Ed because by then, she was bouncing around again and being her usual, annoying self. Jet thought about worrying but then when she saw her so happy again, he decided it must have just been because she was bored or something.  
Spike walked in that night to the smell of bell peppers and beef-this time with beef. "So what's the special occasion, Jet?" he asked when he saw it.  
"Oh, nothing," said Jet and he moved his head in the ecstatic Ed's direction. "She was a bit down last night, so I wanted to cheer her up," he said softly to Spike. "I almost started to worry, and then today, she's hopping around again as if she has coals under her feet."  
Spike chuckled and looked at Edward. He had overheard a little bit of Ed and Ein's conversation about Faye betraying her. Spike felt betrayed, himself, because she had left like that. 'Ed doesn't know about the letter,' Spike thought a bit guiltily, 'But she is coming back. So what does it matter?" he thought a smile tugged at his tired lips.  
They ate dinner with Ed shoveling her food down her throat, more than eating, and Ein under the table picking up stray scraps. Afterwards, Jet brought out some sweets (with much begging from Spike not to because Ed was so hyper already) and Ed forgot her troubles from the day before as quickly as a baby forgets a boo-boo. "Yay! Ice cream!" she yelled. "Yippee!" And that was before she ate it.  
For the rest of the night, Ein hid under tables while Jet cleaned up after Ed-when he wasn't being attacked by ice cream, that is. She had gotten the idea to start throwing the stuff at the others-including Ein. By dawn, everyone was sticky and exhausted, but with soft smiles upon their faces. For the moment, Faye was forgotten. To them right there and then, she was in her room hiding from Ed's ice cream "bombs" while the guys and Ein were cowering behind chairs and the sofa, "bombing" the exuberant redhead back. 


	5. Stranger

Authoress: Michelle C.  
  
Date: August 1, 2003  
  
Series: Cowboy Bebop  
  
Disclaimers: Read my other bloody fics!  
  
*****Important*****Note*****: Yes. Faye is purposely made OOC, just in case you were wondering. You'll see why. And the parentheses are not notes unless I say otherwise or it's a bracket instead of parentheses. *****End*****Note*****  
  
A Place Where I Belong  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Stranger  
  
The past two months-maybe it was only two weeks?-were more like a dream to me than a reality. Wait, it might have been two years. But what does it matter. I don't know anymore.  
The only thing I do know is that I woke up two (let's just say) months ago in a soft bed in a tiny room. (It's not what you think- honestly!) When I awoke, I found that I didn't remember anything. It was so strange. I didn't know a thing.  
That was strange enough by itself, but when a man walked into the room and I tried to sit up, my head completely spun. He rushed over to me and helped me lay back down. With a worried face, he said to me, "Faye, are you all right?"  
"Faye?" I managed to say that with my eyes closed. "Is that what my name is?" I smiled. "It's nice. I. I li.like." I said before I fell asleep again.  
  
When I opened my eyes again, the stranger was gone. It was like he took my headache with him, though, so for the moment, I just relished my not-ringing or heavy head.  
The first time I woke, it seemed around dusk, or maybe early dawn, but this time, I awoke because of the sunlight streaming it. It touched the deep green comforter that was on top of me as well as the large, white shirt I was dressed in. Do you ever notice how the sunlight seems to always be dirty with small particles of powdery fuzz? Well, I saw the fuzz and the sunbeams danced with it. The dust twirled within the light, seemingly enjoying the floating sensation. I watched the duet, fascinated.  
Slowly, I sat up and found my headache not just toned down, it was completely gone, save a slight echoing, empty feeling up there. That's when Mr. Stranger walked back in.  
"Faye, you're awake again." It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded anyways. "How are you feeling?" His eyes bore into my own.  
'How odd,' I thought. 'His. his eyes are. No, it can't be. It's just the light. How can one eye be darker than the other? That's not possible.' I had just managed to convince myself of that when he came closer to me, proving that, indeed, his eyes were two different shades of amber.  
He looked at me kind of oddly so I quickly answered his question. "I'm. I'm all right, though I'd be lying if I said I'm totally feeling well. I'm a bit. stiff," I answered truthfully. I smiled up at him. He was tall.  
For a man like him, his hair was quite strange, but oddly enough, I wanted to touch just a lock of it all the same. A blush the color of a pink tinted sakura blossom touched my cheeks because of that strange thought and I looked at my hands in my lap.  
Taking my blush as a sign of a fever or something, he put his slender, pale hand on my forehead, causing me to blush further. "I believe you have a slight fever, Faye," he said in a low tone. "So you feel a bit stiff?" he asked me.  
I nodded.  
He smiled at me and I blushed again. "Well, that's no surprise, Faye." I loved the way he said my name. It was like I was a princess in a fairytale and he was prince or I was Juliet and he was my Romeo, calling out, "Juliet, Juliet, wherefore art thou Juliet."  
"You've been asleep for a week and a half. Then you woke up," he said and paused as he saw that I remembered that. "Then you woke up and slept another 3 days." He looked me straight in the eyes again as he said, "What do you remember?"  
I was so mesmerized by his eyes and voice that I didn't see how that question could have been strange. We were just talking about how I felt and then all of a sudden, he asked me what I remembered. Well, I told him, "Nothing. Not really. I know the things here," and I gestured at the room, "but I don't remember anything else."  
"Do you remember what happened to you? Do you remember know anyone I can. contact?" He had said that so smoothly except for the second sentence, but I soon forgot how he stumbled around the words as if he were making it up as he went because he shot me another of his beautiful smiles.  
I also forgot about the urgency in his voice or the strange feeling I received when he asked about he people I knew. I did know some people. but were they real, or from the dreams that I had during the last two weeks sleeping? 'That must be it,' I thought, satisfied that I wasn't imagining I knew people I really didn't except in my dreams. 'I probably just remember people from my dreams. My dream companions. It just had to be it. I mean, honestly, what kind of redheaded 13-year-old girl wears her hair in an afro and bounces around like a maniac? And what kind of bald guy talked to his bonsai trees? It was insane! And the strangest, yet most intriguing of my "dream companions" is a guy named. Oh, what was his name? He had the strangest hair. Green. In an afro. and he was Caucasian. I think he said he was from Mars and was in love with an angel-devil.' I shook my head. "No," I said slowly, averting my eyes from his carefully. "I don't remember anyone or anything about myself. I don't remember anything except for. well, things. I know this is this is a telephone and there's a TV," I said and pointed to each thing in turn.  
The man laughed. "I believe you when you say you don't believe anything because this," he said and went over to the telephone and picked it up, "is a thermometer." The thing extended and popped into my mouth. It made a beep and then came out of my mouth. "Well, we know your temperature's normal now," he said and chuckled. "And this," he said as the television started beeping too, "is a laundry machine." What I took for the screen of the TV popped forward and a small bundle of clothes burst out of it.  
I stared in shock at everything. "But. but." I stuttered.  
Then the man asked me a strange question. "What year is it, Faye?"  
I answered his question with another question, "What kind of question is that?"  
"Just answer the question, Faye," he said roughly. Then, just as sudden as his attitude changed, it bounced back. "Please?" He smiled again.  
"Nineteen-ninety-one," I said, confused.  
I heard him say something like, "It worked," under his breath so I asked what it was he said.  
He grinned at me and said, "Nothing. It's not important. All you need to do is focus on getting better now." He said it so sweetly I just had to smile. "Now get some rest. After 2 weeks of not moving, you'll be feeling tired after this."  
I nodded, though I was by no means tired and he walked out the door. "Wait," I called after him. He paused by the doorway and looked back in. "What's your name?"  
He said in his low voice, "Just call my Gren."  
  
Haha. I so evil! Cliffy *grinz* I can't believe that I posted this already, though! I just posted the other chapter about. 10 hours ago O.o; That's bizarre, even for me. Especially for me Lolz. Well, I hope I don't get any complaints. I updated 2 chaps in 2 days. I can post one more chapter tomorrow (maybe) but that'll be all my ideas at the moment. (No, I didn't wrote 2 whole chaps in 2 days. I had ideas for them already. An outline, if you will. ) And I'm babbling. Alright. I'll shut it now Lolz. It's about 3am and I am TIRED! So ja ne, all! ^ ^ 


End file.
